


Treasure Trove

by Anonymous



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Bi-Curiosity, Bisexual Male Character, Double Vaginal Penetration, Dragonborn (D&D), Elves, Foursome - F/M/M/M, Gangbang, Masturbation, Multi, Penis In Vagina Sex, Polyamory Negotiations, Public Masturbation, Rough Oral Sex, Team Bonding, Tieflings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-24 15:51:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20361112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: A party's rogue slips away from the group for a little 'alone time'... that turns into not-so-alone time.





	Treasure Trove

With the dragon slain out in one of the larger chambers of the cave system, Mercy had slipped away in search of its treasure. _Somewhere_ around here, she reasoned, there had to be a truly massive pile of gold. The others would be a while with the corpse-- Mal wanted spell components, Ianfaeren was in the habit of stripping a slain beast of anything useful or salable, and Vormorn just wanted a trophy.

When she finds the treasure, it's beyond what she'd imagined. She can hear the distant echoing of the playful argument the boys are having-- her boys, as she thinks of them-- and she imagines she has some time to herself. Time, and treasure, to do one thing she's always wanted to do...

Mercy slips out of her leather armor and then the clothing beneath, desire winning out over caution, tail lashing in excitement. Nearly the entire chamber floor is covered in coins, and where the gold is really piled up, there are dunes of treasure taller than she is, horns and all. Finding a place where the gold is thick on the ground, she lays herself out, feeling it against her hide, cool at first and then warming beneath her body as she writhes and twists and feels the shift, hears the gentle jingle. What rogue in her place could resist the urge? It's all so... _shiny_. It's more than enough to set all four of them up, maybe for life. To buy respectability for her and for Mal? And they're not out of their adventuring years by any means, but when the time comes that they need to look at retiring from this life, they could do anything. By then, they'll have even more.

Mercy's mind is on the money, but her body quickly develops ideas of its own. One hand drifts idly to cup at a breast, full and heavy, and the spaded end of her tail finds the growing heat between her legs, nudging gently at her clitoris, teasing it out. Does she have time for this? So often, she ignores the call of her own body, forgoes the search for companionship... Well, it's hard to find someone-- there are those who wouldn't consider her at all because of her heritage, and those who would assume she'd be a wild one-time lay because of it, and she doesn't care to run into either type. But she can enjoy her own body, without companionship if need be. She can enjoy this, the warmth of the shifting bed of gold, the knowledge that she'll soon be able to have anything she likes. She imagines she makes quite the picture against it, too, the dusky lavender of her skin a contrast to all that bright gold... her small nipples tight and firm now, deep plum against the softer color of her breast, her long limbs and thick curves, the spill of her midnight-dark curls, the arch of her spine and the arch of her horns...

She closes her eyes and gives into the pleasure, holding both breasts now, squeezing and teasing them as her tail moves between her legs, as she twists and chafes her thighs together seeking _more_...

"_Fuck_..."

Mal's voice breaks through the haze of lust. Mercy's eyes fly open, taking in all three of her traveling companions. Mal is the most obvious-- his silk robes tent obviously, and his own tail swishes, the way hers does when she spots something shiny. Only this time, the shiny thing is _her_. She feels a rush of heat sweep through her at the thought. It's harder to tell if Ianfaeren is straining at his own leathers, and harder still to know what's beneath the plate skirt of Vormorn's armor, but they look at her just as intently.

"See something you like?" She asks, feeling emboldened. They've been traveling together a while, she... she _trusts_ them, odd as it seems. Mal is a tiefling, like her, knows what her lot in life has been in a way few others do. They had bonded with each other quickly, and then they'd hooked up with Ian and Vormorn, an odd duo... but both the elf and the dragonborn were the type to judge a companion by his merits, and all four had quickly warmed to each other over the course of their early adventures, saving each other's lives, keeping watch over each other in turns when they would camp for the night or sleep two and two in cheap inns where you couldn't quite rest easy... telling jokes and stories.

These were her companions, and she trusted all of them. And if any of them did want this, well... so does she.

"I see everything I like." Mal breathes, and he approaches her with the reverence of a worshiper to an altar. The long, twisting horns that sprout from his brow start at the same pink as his skin, blackening towards their points. He wears gold rings fitted around them, with fine chains that run between, and when he lets his robes fall, she can see that's not the only place he's decorated-- his nipples stand firm, with small gold rings through each, with another fine chain.

She likes that. But then, she's always liked gold.

She also likes the treasure between his legs-- unadorned, but that would just be gilding the lily... It's long and slender, curving upwards, flushed a deep pink.

Ian's attention breaks from Mercy for a moment, to take Mal in, mostly to look at the gold adorning his chest. Mal smirks back at him, returning Ian's quirked eyebrow with one of his own.

"Are you coming, too?" He asks, with just a hint of the same teasing challenge that has always characterized the relationship between wizard and ranger.

"Are we all invited?" Vormorn asks, the low rumble of his voice further igniting Mercy's desires.

"The more the merrier." She winks at him. And it wouldn't be right, to take only one of them, when she cares about each one just as deeply as the others...

At that, Ian and Vormorn begin to strip off as well, in a rush to join the pair of tieflings in their bed of gold. Mal has knelt over her, kissing her, his forked tongue teasing at her full lower lip. He kisses his way down her body, and that tongue is a delight every inch of the way. The notch of it is the perfect fit for one stiff nipple, and it feels even better when he's down between her thighs, mercilessly teasing at her clit. She can hear the clang and jangle of pieces of Vormorn's armor hitting the gold, the softer sounds of Ian's. He's the next to join them, his hands covering her breasts as Mal continues to work his magic, nipping lightly at the thick outer lips of her dripping pussy. There's an ache deep in her that his clever tongue and eager, sucking kisses can't ease, but she'd be happy for him to keep on trying-- especially if each application of teeth is going to send that thrill straight through to the place where the base of her spine becomes tail. Ian is just as hard as Mal, similar in shape and size, if a little smaller. Still, even if size were everything, he'd be serviceable, she thinks. There's an elegance to it. Looking between the two of them, it's hard to say who she wants first.

"Leave some for the rest of us." Ian teases, one hand leaving her breast so that he can tug at Mal's short ponytail, pulling him up from his task.

"Oh, there's plenty of both of us to go around." Mal purrs, raising his head, chin dripping with her juices. "If you want to come and have a taste..."

Ian flushes, silent a moment, before the two of them shift so that he can inhale the scent of her arousal with a shuddery moan, so that he can thrust his fingers into her, seeking out that spot, compensating for the lack of finesse his tongue has by comparison. Vormorn joins them at last, and Mercy finally gets a look at him in all his glory. And what a lot of glory it is...

"Oh, you'll split me in _half_!" She wails, body wracked with spasms of pleasure-- between the return of Mal's mouth to her breasts, Ian's fingers deep in her, and the sight of Vormorn's enormous cock jutting proudly forth. It's pale and fleshy, free of its sheath, in contrast to the bronze scales which cover the rest of his body, and the shape of it is certainly tantalizing, but it's so _big_...

"I have a solution..." Mal offers, words smothered against her breast. "Mm-- mm, Ian, lie down on your back, here..."

They pull away, with some reluctance, from their worship of her body, and when Ian follows Mal's direction with only a questioning look, Mal helps Mercy to lower herself onto his cock. Her body feels well prepared to take him, more than, and it feels good, two pairs of hands working now to see that she's seated comfortably, and Vormorn gently stroking her horns and her hair as they do.

"Vormorn, kneel down at Ian's head." Mal directs, and he eases Mercy to lie back against Ian's chest. "Get down low, that's right..."

Ian kisses at the curve of her neck, and Vormorn angles his cock to her lips, the musky scent of him filling her nostrils, intoxicating. It carries with it so many memories-- collapsing together after a pitched battle, or being comforted by the circle of his strong arms after a rough day... the closeness. And now, whenever she's close to him, to any of them, she'll think of this.

Mercy and Ian cry out at once, when Mal's tongue finds the place they're joined, swirling over the both of them.

"What are you _doing_ down there?" Ian asks, his voice shaky.

"Should I stop?"

"Don't you _dare_." Mercy moans, rocking her hips. She can't take much of Vormorn at once, but she wraps both hands around him, and lavishes the head of his cock with licks and kisses as he thrusts into her grip.

"I-- I--"

"Shh, it's only us." He promises, his hand slipping from Mercy's thigh to pat reassuringly at Ian's. "It doesn't have to change anything you don't want-- it... it doesn't have to mean anything serious if you like it. You can always close your eyes and pretend, or... It can just be a thing that happens once, because it's the four of us together."

"All right." Ian nods, and then his hands return to cupping and kneading at Mercy's breasts, and Mal continues. Ian gasps again when Mal slides a finger up into her, alongside his cock, to massage at that spot he'd found before. "Mal... _fuck_..."

"Oh, you're both so hot, so eager." Mal praises. "Both so lovely like this... I could watch the two of you fuck for _eons_ and want for naught more... Well... maybe there's _one_ thing better than this."

He slides another finger into her, and yet again she and Ian both cry out. She hears an obscene wet sound from Mal's mouth, down below where Ian is in her, feels his nose slide against her opening, and she feels a shiver of pleasure run through her when she imagines Mal's mouth on Ian's balls. The deep pink of his lips, the soft golden tan of Ian's skin darker and rosier between his legs...

"Ready for an adventure?" He purrs, nosing at her clit. And suddenly his body is over hers, and his cock is sliding in alongside Ian's, and the three of them share a moan. She's never felt so impossibly full-- Vormorn alone would still be more, and possibly more than she could take, but this is more than she thought she could take at once, and she finds she loves it now that she has it. "Now let me help you with _that_..."

He has to use both arms to brace himself, over Mercy and Ian's bodies, not an easy task with the gold constantly shifting between all four of them, but his mouth is ready and willing, as it takes Mercy's place over the tip of Vormorn's cock, and Mal moans loudly around it before pulling off.

"Are you-- can you--?"

"Oh yes." He nods, grinning brightly, golden eyes aglow with teasing fondness. "Fuck my mouth. I can take you."

"Rough?"

"As rough as you like. You'll find me very accommodating."

Mercy keeps her hands on him, shifting her hold as he shifts. She has quite the view, as Mal wraps his lips around what her hands don't cover, and Vormorn takes hold of his horns to direct him, thrusting into his mouth. He could put more power into it, if he were the type to like things truly rough, she knows-- she can see how he's mindful of Mal's jewelry when he grips him, how he doesn't pull him all the way down onto his cock, but gives him enough to let him feel well-used.

The waves of pleasure come harder and faster, one after another, until there's no space between the crests at all, until it's too much to take, and she can feel Vormorn's release splash down against her chest, can feel Ian bite down at her shoulder to muffle a cry, can feel Mal thrust and stiffen and slump over her... They're all a mess in the aftermath, mingled sweat and release, and they separate only to come back together, Mercy cradled in Vormorn's arms, resting on his chest now, Ian and Mal leaning up against either side of them.

"This is actually quite comfortable." Vormorn says.

"Stickiness aside." Ian laughs. "Don't suppose you still have that spell you used to clean us up after we dealt with harvesting from the beast?"

Mal lifts his head from where it's lolled against Vormorn. "Give me a minute and I can certainly... yes. We'll want to take care of the mess before we start stuffing our pockets with gold."

"We could... we could sleep like this every night, with this gold." Vormorn suggests.

"What, dump it out and lie in it? Might attract thieves."

"No, I mean... We could buy land. Have a house built on it-- travel a little more, adventure a little more. Hire some people to keep the house nice and to work the fields, we could have fields. And when we go back there, we could have one giant bed for all of us. If we wanted to. I just think... after everything we've done... I don't want to take my portion and go off on my own, just because I could afford to. I don't think I'd sleep as well without the three of you nearby."

"Sometimes when we're in an inn, I can't sleep if I can't hear you snore through the walls." Mercy admits, snuggling down into the crook of Vormorn's neck.

"Lucky for you, you could hear Vormorn snore from one end of the inn to the other." Mal teases, but his tail snakes around Vormorn's calf, and he snuggles closer as well. "I couldn't sleep without knowing one of you was watching over me."

"No, nor I." Ian admits. "It would be nice to have a place we could come home to... Vormorn, you could have a forge. You always talk about wanting to forge your own sword. Be a master swordsmith when you have to knock off adventuring."

"A place on the edge of the wilderness." Mal smiles dreamily, his eyes closed. "So you can hunt and fish, and run wild."

"A tower." Mercy reaches out to him, her fingertips caressing his upturned face. "A little tower for you, and an herb garden for growing some of your components, and shelves and shelves of books."

"A home." Vormorn squeezes her. "A _real_ home with a clan of your own. You deserve that."

_Home_. She's never really had one, nor a family. Not until the four of them came together. Vormorn had lost his own clan, Ian was in exile, and Mal was just like her... and now they're a family, aren't they? With all the gold they need to make their dreams come true.

"We all deserve that." She says. "And we'll have it.


End file.
